Moving overseas the hard way

The proportion of people who expressed surprise at our plan to bring Max over to the UK was pretty high. Roughly 98%, I think. 

We can understand this scepticism, and not just because of the cost involved with shipping Max over. After all, one of the reasons we moved overseas was to take advantge of the proximity to Europe and travel to lots of exciting new places. Having a dog complicates that as you can't just get up and go, but have to consider their boarding needs too.

We've rented back in Australia with Max, so understand the complications involved with needing to fnd a pet-friendly property. Luckily, there seem to be fewer ads over here for places that specify "NO PETS", so there's one advantage there. And we even managed to talk our current landlords into allowing "a little white, fluffy thing", rather than the big German shepherd who previously lived in the house and managed to destroy lots of it. Of course, we had to pay a heft deposit but at least we'll get that money back when we move out. 

Another complication here is that most people live in flats or shared housing. This means that there were not many houses with enclosed gardens available for us to rent, or at least none in our price range. We did see a number of houses with "garden" listed on the ad, but when we inspected these were little scraps of grass between the front gate and the front door that were barely bigger than Max himself.

Our place has a patch of grass outside the front that we can possibly fence off and leave Max in while we are out, but of course that is not necessarily an option this time of year (it's currently -1 degree, at 3.30pm).  Leaving Max inside while we are at work isn't an option either, as it's not fair to him or us. He's usually okay home by himself, but yesterday I popped out to the supermarket for just over an hour, and came home to find he had pulled down one of the curtains in the living room (amazingly not damaging anything). 

Today, though, our problems seem to have been alleviated somewhat as we found a lovely lady who runs a doggy day care place. She came over to visit Max, and they hit it off immediately. After going mental over her smelly jacket for five minutes, then rolling on his back and kicking his legs in the air, Max ended up falling asleep with his head on her foot. We're used to seeing Max grovel to other people and act like they are the coolest things in the world, so we weren't offended. 

But she likes Max, and is able to pick him up each morning and drop him off each afternoon. This will minimise the amount of time he has alone so he won't fret as much, and will be less tempted to pull down the curtains.

It can be challenging having a dog to look after, especially when he tries your patience a million times a day.

But when you glance over and see him sleeping sweetly in his basket, looking like a white, fluffy angel, it's easy to forgive the rest.  

The promised photos

Hi everyone.

This is a quick post before we head off to our Christmas with AD tomorrow. We will be out of email contact until the 27th, but here are some photos that we've been promising for a while now. 

The first one of Max was taken yesterday when we took a bus trip out to Seton Sands. It's on the seaside, at the end of the bus line, and would be a nice destination during summer. Yesterday, however, it was blowing such a fierce gale that at times we were involuntarily doing bad impressions of Marcel Marceau.

Max looking windswept and interesting.

Max's trenchcoat. It's his first day in Scotland, hence the slightly stunned look. 

View of our house from the other side of the Water of Leith. Our house is one half of the cottage on the right-hand side of the picture.

Entrance to our private pathway. We have both, on separate occasions, gone right past the gate when walking home. 

Anyhow, we hope everyone has a great Christmas. Eat lots, give lots of presents, and enjoy the warm weather.

Max's saga

Hi everyone.

Good news first - I got a job! It's only a temporary job, for January, but they are holding interviews next month to make the position permanent. I'm hoping that having acted in the role for January will help in the interview stakes.  Then again, I might discover that I don't actually like the job and decide not to apply. But regardless, I'm no longer an unemployed layabout. Or at least I won't be come 6 January.  And, G got paid today! Hooray!

Bad news - I bought some camembert from M&S yesterday, and it stank to high heaven. Not a good cheesy smell, but a rotten, toilet-y smell. I returned it today, and offered to let the lady at the counter smell the cheese (ha!). She declined, saying she could smell it from where she was. I won't go into the falling-while-getting-off-the-bus-and-landing-on-the-camembert incident, but the upside to buying rotten cheese was that it didn't matter that half of it was ruined.

The weather has been yucky the past few days. It's been rainy and windy, the kind of windy that blows your umbrella inside out. Apparently there are forecasts of sleet for today, which wouldn't be surprising. I was going to pop into town to meet G and his work buddies for a drink, but the prospect of leaving the house at the moment is rather unappealing. 

So, I thought it would timely to fill you in on Max's journey from Brisbane to Edinburgh. His plane left at about 1pm, and arrived in Singapore about eight hours later. He was due to meet up with the connecting flight, from Melbourne, to take him the rest of the way to Heathrow. Unfortunately, that flight was delayed for over seven hours due to mechanical problems, which meant poor Max had to wait, in his crate, for that flight to arrive in Singapore. Due to quarantine restrictions, pets are not permitted to leave their crates at any point on the trip or they will not be allowed to enter the UK. The crates are locked, and there is a little funnel which feeds down to a small water dish, and this is topped up in transit.  

Unfortunately, the lengthy delay meant that we were racing against time to collect Max from quarantine and make it back to Euston station for our train to Edinburgh. When we made our train booking, Max was due to arrive at 5.25am. The pet transport people advised that he should be ready to pick up at 11am, so we were confident that booking the train trip home for 4.45pm should be fine. G was in London for work, and I came down too to pick up Max and meet up with G back at Euston. 

However, the delay meant that Max's flight did not arrive until 1pm. The pet transport company was good enough to call us about this delay, and told us that Max should be processed by 2.30-3pm. The Animal Reception Centre where Max was to be collected is right next to Heathrow, a good hour on the tube from central London, so making it back in time for the 4.45pm train would hinge on luck and no delays.

We stayed with Megan and Brett, who were very helpful finding buses and trains etc to get me to the ARC. The tube system in London is very good, provided there are no delays, and it's quite easy finding one's way around. I caught the tube out to Hatton Cross, the station before Heathrow, and then a bus from the station. The buses are also great, as they have a displaysaying which stop is coming up next. My stop was called "Animal Reception Centre", so there was no amibguity about where to get off the bus. 

I had envisioned the ARC as a cold, draughty warehouse, but thankfully it was far from that, with heating and comfortable couches. I arrived just after 1pm, and there was a man already there talking to the reception lady. He said something about a delayed flight, so I piped up that I was waiting for the same plane. The lady said that the plane had landed, and they were waiting for the animals to be shipped over from the tarmac.  

The man and I ended up waiting for two hours for our pets to be processed. He was English, and had just moved back to the UK after six years in Australia, and was waiting for his two cats. He said that he and his wife weren't excited about the cost involved with shipping them back, but the only excuse they could think of to tell the kids was that the cats had been stolen. Not entirely convincing. Anyhow, it was good to have someone else to chat with while waiting. He also called Qantas to see what the delay was caused by, which was handy to know.

Several people came and went while we were waiting, picking up their animals. Most of these were dogs, but one particularly excited gentleman picked up a bowl of goldfish. I would have thought that one goldfish was pretty much interchangeable with another, but clearly he sees something deeper with his pets.

At around 2.30pm, a man popped out to let us know that all the pets had come off the flight and were out of their crates, and asked us who we were waiting for. I was so relieved when he said that Max was fine, as part of me had always been concerned that something would happen to him on the flight, given his heart murmur. He also asked what breed Max was, as they were all wondering. 

Finally, at just after 3pm someone came out to give me papers to sign....and then Max appeared. He was so much fluffier than last time I saw him, and quite happy, though this might have been because he was finally out of the crate after nearly 30 hours. 

But pleasantries had to be put aside as we had just over 90 minutes to get back into town. We got a cab to Terminal 4, then popped on the Heathrow Connect back into Paddington Station. We arrived here at about 4.20, leaving 25 minutes to travel four tube stations to Euston Square and make the short walk to Euston station. Easy, right?

Not when you're relying on the underground. The train was about five minutes late, and then that train terminated at the next station, meaning I had to wait for the next train. Unfortunately, I arrived at Euston station seven minutes too late, and we missed the train. G had been able to cancel the tickets, so we didn't lose that money, but it did mean we had to buy full-priced train tickets back to Edinburgh, about 40 pounds more than we had originally paid. However, it was still cheaper than getting him flown up to Edinburgh, which was the point of the exercise.

Travelling with Max is certainly an experience, as he attracts smiles, comments and conversation from fellow travellers. Max even inspired someone to start a conversation on the tube, which I understand is a rareity in London.    

Anyhow, that's the update of Max's journey. I did plan to post some photos of Max in his stylish trench coat, but G has the camera at work so I can't. Soon, though!

Brief encounter

Hello, all.

A quick note to say that, no, we haven't lost our computer or forgotten about the other side of the world. It's just been one of those weeks. I've spent most of my time on-line applying for jobs and sending my CV off to any company that looks halfway decent, and therefore relish time out from behind the keyboard. G's been busy at work, and when he's home has preferred to watch old Dollar videos on Youtube rather than update the blog.

But hopefully things will change soon. After wallowing in self-pity and despondency for the past few weeks over my job(less) situation, the sun finally broke through the clouds today. I received three (3) invitations to attend job interviews, as well as being asked to meet with a recruiter. One of the job interviews was unexpected, as I had interviewed with them last week only for all of us to realise that my lack of stats experience would be a hinderance. However, they called specifically to ask me to interview for another position, which is a huge ego boost. 

G bought me some dark chocolate orange clusters to celebrate. More celebration will follow on Friday when he receives his first pay since starting his new job. I much prefer being paid on a fortnightly basis, but the usual thing here seems to be monthly payment. 

In other news, Max has settled in well and is enjoying snoozing next to the radiator. Dogs in Scotland must be a lot uglier than him, as he attracts many smiles and comments from passers-by. It might be his stylish trench coat, though.

Night to all.   

Tripping around.

Hello. G here. Can I say that's it nice to be back blogging after a break? Can I? Hang on ......yep, I've just confirmed it. Wasn't very difficult at all. I'd like to second C.'s comments re: broadband cost and speed. Tres good.
As mentioned in a previous post, I went to London for a work Christmas party. Fairly standard: lots of people getting extremely drunk at the company's expense. No one else wanted to leave at the tame hour of half past midnight but I managed to find my way back to the hotel by myself despite having only the vaguest of notion of where I was. The hard core partiers woke me with drunken shouting outside my room at about 5:30 later that morning. I assume not lot of work was done anywhere in the company the next day. The highlight of the night was the upstairs bar at the party venue where most things were made from ice, including the furniture and the "glasses". Only one of the wait staff was Australian though, contrary to what I had been led to expect and she was originally a Kiwi anyway.
Moving in to our new house the next day was the easiest move that we've ever done, although C may disagree as she copped the worst of it lugging suitcases etc on the two bus trips from Portobello.
Friday of last week we went to see Jarvis Cocker in concert. I am very chuffed to have crossed this one of my UK trip to do list so early, and although it wasn't as good as I hoped it would be, it was about as good as I expected. The support acts were very ordinary as well and in fact the highlight of the night was "The Drunk Girl".
I have never before seen anyone that drunk and still moving. We first saw her while queuing up outside before the concert (for about an hour, mind you, and it was bloody cold). Just to set the scene, she was about 30ish, blonde, wearing a flimsy black dress totally unsuited to the elements, high heels and with a friend in a similar condition. She first staggered past us down the street and then a bit later back the other way. She wasn't walking so much as swaying for a few seconds until overbalancing in a random direction, falling sideways for a few steps until hitting a wall, her friend or (thankfully) the guard rails next to the road. It was something like a combination of B western movie death scene and a footballer on Dancing with the Stars.
Her friend wasn't quite so obviously squiffy.
We watched them stagger into a bar not far down the road, only to be (presumably) evicted a short time later. Our drunker friend then decided to call it a belated night and began attempting to flag down some transport home. Flag down buses. At night. On a very busy road. By walking out in front of them. Again and again.
Thankfully her friend kept pulling her back to the footpath, but it was breathtaking to watch bus after bus screech to halt and hitting the horn. They then started trying to flag down cabs, firstly trying to get into two different full ones that had stopped at the lights and then two different empty ones where the drivers decided the fares weren't worth the risk of having to clean up the cab. The last we saw of them, before we went in to the theatre, the less drunk girl had fallen down into the gutter and stopped moving.
We both agreed that both of them, but the staggerer in particular, would be a bit ordinary in the next morning. Assuming they made it through the night.
Anyway, I'm all typed out now and and it's bed time. Much more to tell soon.
Bye for now.
P.S. Don't forget to read C's post as well just before this one.

Back in action

Hi everyone!

Well, we now have proof of just how inferior Australian internet providers are. On Thursday at lunchtime I called up a teleco company and put in an order for broadband to be connected at our house. I was told that it would probably take about 6 days (note: days, not working days) to connect, and I later received a text message confirming this time frame.

However, at 9am the next morning I received another text message informing me that our broadband was now connected. And it was. That's less than 24 hours connection time, which is something that I guarantee no Australian internet company could match.

Further, we are paying 12.50 GBP/month for our internet, which includes unlimited (!) downloads, and up to 8meg download speed. Wow, so impressed.

So we have been in (totally legal) download heaven, catching up on all of our shows. It's absolutely fantastic.

In other news, the most important news of the trip, Max arrives on Wednesday morning! Yahoo! We bought him a new basket, some food bowls, a new collar and lead (just in case his didn't make the whole trip through from Australia), and a stylish fawn mackintosh with a tartan wool lining. We stopped short of getting him some faux seude boots, but if the cold, wet pavements are really not to Max's liking that could be a Christmas present. Although, frankly, he doesn't deserve any more presents ever considering the cost of importing him.

Collecting Max requires both of us to head down to London, though luckily G was due to be there anyway for work. I have the duty of catching the tube nearly out to Heathrow, getting a cab from Hatton Cross station to the Animal Reception Centre, picking up the dog, getting a cab back to Hatton Cross, escorting Max on the tube to Kings Cross, then walking to Euston Station where we are getting the long distance train back to Edinburgh. It will certainly be an experience to travel with Max on the tube, the train and through the streets of London. Here's hoping he doesn't mouth off to too many passers-by.

Anyhow, we're able to import Max because we have moved into our own house. It's great to have our own place again, though it's half the size of our house back in Australia. This is, though, the norm here as people don't have the same sense of space as Australians do (although it's nowhere near as close as in Germany - we haven't had to "accidentally" step backwards onto the toes of people queueing right on our heels). Anyhow, our house is a converted cottage, next to the Water of Leith, and in the shadows of the Murrayfield Stadium. This is excellent, as we both follow rugby with a passion second to none.

This is the outside of our house:

I tried to upload more photos, but Blogger won't let me. You'll just have to wait for them sometime in the future.

Anyway, tomorrow I have a job interview so I'm crossing my fingers for that and am off to do some research on the higher education sector in Scotland. Wish me luck!